OK, this is the more later.

I’m not a Christmas person.

Haven’t been in my entire adult life.

I identify with the Grinch, even if he did wimp out there at the end.

I do all the religious things about Christmas, and I make sure I give a bit more to charity this time of year. I try to be pleasant to my friends and coworkers a bit more. And I of course indulge my children and wife a bit with treats and presents.

But I try to do all of those things throughout the year, even if I fail at it regularly.

I don’t buy the artificial cheerfulness that infects everyone during these times. I certainly don’t buy the “Peace on Earth, goodwill to men” bit while I’m watching the Lord of the Flies shopping experience on the evening news, or the latest “Kill them in the name of God / The children are all dieing because someone higher in society cut off the food” coverage from some third world craphole.

I’ve seen a lot of how badly people can treat each other, both here and abroad. I’ve heard the catch phrase “Make every day Christmas”. But it’s just a slogan, a marketing gimmick. Until people can act like they care that someone other then themselves lives or dies, I don’t buy the Christmas Spirit thing.

When we have food and clothes drives for the poor in June, and they’re well taken care of, don’t wish me a Merry Christmas.

Until parents stop beating their kids and each other during the rest of the year, don’t tell me how nice it is that Mom and Dad don’t fight over the holidays.

Until you understand that your kids need time with you doing something meaningful all year long, don’t tell me how great it is that you were able to score the latest electronic babysitter for them by pushing a grandmother and her walker out of the way at WallyWorld.

No, I’m not the best human being in the world, and I’m as guilty as the next guy when it comes to not loving my fellow man as I would like to be loved myself. But I at least recognize how hypocritical it is to mark off a few weeks during the winter where we have to at least act like we care about the rest of humanity.

So, to all of you out there, have a Merry Christmas. And while you’re at it, I wish you a good time throughout the rest of the year. I’ll try to do my part to help you along with that one.

Og over at Neanderpundit shares my view of Christmas: Warning! Strong Language Ahead!

Merry Christmas to every last one of you politically correct, worthless
XXXXX out there who have nothing better to do other than to waste
perfectly good oxygen and bitch about phrases like, ‘Merry Christmas, God Loves
you, and Napalm Sticks to Kids.’

More on this later.

Roberta X has a good post on dealing with chronic pain.

I’ve been creaky in one form or another since I was 19. When I was young, it was normally muscle soreness from physical exercise, leavened well with the occasional minor injury. I was never one of those “good hurt” types, and I’ve never had a runner’s high. Unless you count the feeling after a run that I might puke and then pass out. If that’s a runner’s high, you can keep it. I’d pop a few ibuprofen, stretch a bit, and get on with it.

When I got to be 26 or so, the pain started moving into my joints. Mostly my knees, but also my ankles, feet, and hands. Like an idiot, I just ignored it, changed over to naproxen, and got on with my life. Should have gone to the doctor, especially considering my families history with arthritis, but had to be a big man and show that I could take care of myself.

By the time I was 32, I was walking with a distinct limp sometimes. I was using Aleve every morning and every night. The Irish Woman and I had been together for a couple of years, and her mantra had become “Go to the doctor, go to the doctor….”. I finally went, with her in tow to make sure I actually kept the appointment.

And guess what? I had arthritis, and it was treatable. Doc put me on some anti-inflamatories, and I started doing better. I’ve been on about 6 different medications over the years, some pretty basic, and some kind of exotic. When the Irish Woman and I were trying to make Baby Bear, I came off all of it for about 2 years, and thankfully we were able to conceive before I had to go back on my meds.

Luckily, I’ve stayed away from the hardcore pain killers. Aleve isn’t cutting it anymore, but the Doc has me on something a bit more potent, but still not a narcotic.

My mother died from complications of Lupus after 20 years of high doses of prednisone and narcotics. It got to the point that she could pretty much get Demerol and Fenigren on demand at the local hospital. By the time I was an adult and had my first child, she was pretty much an addict and spend 3 days out of 5 in a fog.

I’m not going down like that. I may limp, I may need a cane when I’m older, but I’ll get old with a glint in my eye and all of my mental faculties.

Nowadays, I’m sore in a few areas all the time, but the treatments and medicine keep the edge off and keep me from growing fangs and claws during the course of my day.

Roberta X is spot on when she says that the pain becomes part of the background. If I concentrate on how cruddy I feel on bad days, nothing gets done. So I take my medicine, ignore it as much as I can, and know what my limitations are. If I spend a day lifting 200 pound servers with one of my guys, I know I’m not going to be in good shape the next day. So I make sure I have 2 or more guys to help move servers.

So, I get on with it, and remember that there are a lot of people who are worse off.

with balls this big?

BHO is buying his wife a $30k plus ring made from rhodium and diamonds during a time when most Americans are having to tighten their belts and worry about the future. The president elect is telling everyone that they need to be prepared to pay higher taxes in order to “spread the wealth” and that CEO’s should give up their bonuses and salaries for the good of the country. And he’s spending more than a lot of people make in a year on a piece of jewelry for his wife.

Pure chutzpah.

Yes, he should purchase nice things for his wife. Yes, she’s earned them by putting up with all of the garbage that a 2 year presidential campaign brings into her and her children’s lives.

But a ring made overseas from materials that most people haven’t even heard of?

The Irish Woman made an observation about this, and I think it makes sense to post it here. There’s a good chance that at least some of the diamonds in this bauble are blood diamonds mined by low paid or unpaid Africans. And the rhodium the ring is made of was probably mined in South Africa by low paid Africans. So the descendant of African slaves will be wearing an enormously expensive ring created from materials produced by Africans who are either worked as slaves or are paid slave wages.

Kind of ironic, dontcha think?

Come on, buy her a nice ring made from gold mined here in the United States, or at least made by a domestic company. We have wonderful jewelers here in America, and I’m sure you could find something a little less improper for your lady.

Football is one of my few vices.

I have always loved football. I enjoy it live and on the TV. I watch replays of classic games on ESPN and the NFL Network. I enjoy watching it alone, with my buddies, and with the family.

But something is starting to get to me, and that is nighttime NFL football.

When I was growing up, I could watch the first half of Monday Night Football and not feel like I’ve missed much when I headed to bed. It was only two quarters of football, and I’d watched two games on Sunday.

But now there are 3 games during prime time every week. Games played during prime time now occur on Sunday, Monday, and Thursday. That’s half of the professional football that’s broadcast. You get 3 games on two networks on Sunday, then the nighttime games. If you miss half of those games, that’s a huge percentage of the football you have available that you don’t watch.

The pregame show starts at about 8:30 for each of these where I live in the Eastern time zone, with kick off some 15 to 30 minutes later. Assuming that the game only lasts 3 hours, that means best case for the end of the game approaches midnight. For those of us who actually have families and jobs, that’s quite late. I get up at about 5 every morning, and if I show up for work 3 days out of 5 with only 4 or 5 hours of sleep, my boss is going to hurt me bad.

Why do these games start so late? I’ve heard the argument that they start so late on the East Coast so that they’re on during good times in the Central, Mountain, and Pacific time zones. But if a game starts at 9 in Louisville, it’s starting at 6 in Los Angeles. No way most people are home by 6 to watch a football game by 6 on a work day. In the Mountain and Central time zones, the time is a bit more reasonable, but that means that a large percentage of the audience probably misses at least part of the game.

How about this: Start the games at 7 PM in each of the time zones. Tape delay it for the Central, Mountain, and Pacific time zones. Yes, real-time video and game commentary will be available on the Internet, but I’d be willing to bet that a large majority of fans won’t cheat themselves by going that route. And if they do, who cares. Most people watch these games on their TV, so show them the game during a time frame that doesn’t force them to stay up way too late or rush home to watch the game.

I know, I’m getting old, and midnight isn’t that late. But 3 nights with reduced sleep is way too much to ask for football. And I can and do record the games so I can catch the second half later, but I shouldn’t have to, and I wouldn’t if the networks would just start showing these games at times that are more convenient to the consumer.

Our Thanksgiving went pretty well.

Girlie Bear spent the day with her mom and Little Bear, so it was me, Irish Woman, Junior Bear, and Baby Bear.

We started the day off making a turkey in the roaster and dressing. We had plans to have dinner with friends later in the afternoon after we’d visited the Kentucky family.

We made an appearance with the Kentucky family, and Baby Bear was the hit of the show. He’s really become a little guy instead of just furniture that burps, and he was in great form. We saw one of the cousins who had a baby 3 months ago, and their little guy is as cute as a button.

We left there, went back to the house, and grabbed our vittles for dinner. When we got to our friend’s house for the party, most of the crowd was already there. Both Irish Woman and I were both on pager for the weekend, so no drinking allowed, but it’s kind of fun to be the sober one in a room full of people who have a good buzz on. Not drunk and loud, just mellow.

My turkey was a hit, and the dressing was eaten up and the pan scraped clean. There were about 6 teenage boys and 3 teenage girls, so not much was left over.

Friday we had Girlie Bear back, so we had our family Thanksgiving at home. Girlie Bear helped me bake the pumpkin pies, and we made another turkey. After dinner, Girlie Bear went back to her mom’s for the weekend.

Saturday we went to the Thanksgiving celebration with the Indiana family. More turkey, and a great time with a loud, close, fun group of people. Baby Bear was held by everyone, and ended up falling asleep for the night in one of the aunts arms.

Sunday was cleanup and relax day at Casa de Oso. My pager went off regularly all weekend, but nothing major happened.

We ate the last of our leftovers tonight, and I think I’ll make something entirely unlike turkey for dinner tomorrow. 3 turkey dinners in 4 days, with leftovers for every other meal besides breakfast gets old.

I hope everyone had a fun, safe, and memorable time.

No headache today, and I was able to get out of bed without too much groaning.

My attitude is a bit better than it was yesterday, and I didn’t even have to drive out of my way so that I didn’t see a coffee shop on the way in.

I might just be coming out of this.

H/T to iFeminists for this link to an article about Drill Sergeants getting into trouble for inappropriate behavior with their soldiers.

Apparently, this problem is starting to creep up again.

As I said before, I was an instructor at the Military Intelligence schoolhouse. While I was there, Training and Doctrine Command (TRADOC) had a lot of emberrassing moments as instructors and Drill Sergeants at several posts around the country were caught, literally, with their pants down. We all went through education about sexual harassment and inappropriate contact with trainees. Several instructors at Fort Huachuca got into trouble, including one of my co-workers who only stayed out of a court-martial because the female trainee in question didn’t tell him she was in the Army and that she wasn’t supposed to be off-post.

I served for 9 years in MI, which is probably the most integrated branch, gender-wise. Just about every unit I ever worked with or served in was almost 50-50. I imagine that almost every non-combat MOS is going to be co-ed at some level, and the soldiers have to learn to live and work with members of the opposite sex.

But it seems to me that mixed gender basic training seems to be more trouble than it’s worth. Every few years we hear about how some group of NCO’s are abusing their position in order to get into their privates’ privates. They get thumped, things are tightened up, and then it all happens again. And this says nothing of the shenanigans that happen in the barracks when privates are practicing night land navigation skills to find their way to some meeting place.

So, my opinion of mixed-gender training is pretty low, at least as far as basic training goes.

There are always going to be those guys who abuse their power to get what they want, including getting a few of their soldiers into bed. I have always felt that even if the female soldier in question says she consented, it should still be considered coerced. An 18 year old recruit, who is totally disconnected from her entire support system, would have an immense problem saying no to a Drill Sergeant who wants to get her in the sack in exchange for a couple of favors, or worse, to ward off harsher treatment if she declines.

My solution to the immediate problem is to throw the book at any leader who uses his or her position to gain sexual favors from a soldier of lesser rank, regardless of whether or not it was consensual. I’m talking jail time and a dishonorable discharge. NCO’s are there to take care of, lead, and train these soldiers, not abuse them. The behavior of these people dishonors every one of us who earned our stripes and kept our hands off of the privates.

In the long term, I believe that the Army should return to gender segregated basic training. Female Drill Sergeants should be integrated into both sexes training liberally, but only one or two male Drill Sergeants should be allowed in each female company. Heck, it would be an honor to know that you were trusted in an area that few males are allowed. The sexes should be segregated from attending classes together, or living in the same building. I’m not even above saying that there should be a separate battalion in each training brigade for females.

The male Drill Sergeants and instructors are showing time and again that some of them can’t keep from taking advantage of the situation.

It’s time to change that situation. The soldiers that are being trained today are tomorrow’s Army, and they deserve no better than an environment where they aren’t targeted by predators.

and I think the crew is close to mutiny.

After seeing my doctor on Friday, I’ve given up caffeine cold turkey. And I feel like leftover turkey.

No coffee, no sodas with caffeine. I’ve been hedging a bit with hot cocoa, which has some caffeine in it, but not much.

I’ve found a couple of herbal teas that are somewhat satisfying when I’m in the mood for something hot to drink, and I’m going to investigate decaffeinated coffee starting this weekend.

Even though I thought I didn’t have too big a caffeine monkey on my back, he’s there and he’s kicking the side of my head with jump boots.

My friends that have gone caffeine free tell me this will wear off in a few days.

Until then, I’m a bit grouchy, have an eternal headache, and have a bit of an energy problem.

I wrote these a few years ago, but they still sound good. Enjoy.

• Even when you rest, scan the horizon.

• You only truly appreciate sunrise if you’ve endured the cold night.

• It only takes a few grains of carbon to turn a sophisticated weapon system into a club.

• It doesn’t matter how good the truck looks if it breaks down constantly.

• You are never given a promotion or award that matters. You earn the ones that count.

• No job operates independently. The Intel weenie doesn’t directly engage the enemy, but the infantryman can’t be utilized effectively if he doesn’t know where the enemy is.

• A march is only long if you haven’t done it before.

• Sometimes it’s a blast, sometimes it’s just a paycheck. If you can’t remember the last time it was a blast, get another job.

• It doesn’t matter how heavy a load you carry at the beginning of the march.

• Any moron can shoot. It takes skill to hit.

• If you’re not willing to maintain and fix it, you don’t get to drive it.

• Take pleasure from the small things. They may be all you get.

• Leadership is more than giving orders.

• Sometimes you have to be at the bottom of a well to see the light.

• Genetics doesn’t make a family.

• Say hello as if you haven’t seen them in years.

• Say good-bye as if you’ll never see them again.

• Cherish the ones that are there, honor the ones that came before, and train the ones that are new.